I am Free.

As I write; I become free. Free like the wind. Escaping from this demonic world, entering a peaceful illusion. “Help me, help me,” my soul cries. But I know, I have come here to survive. You stay strong, you precious girl. You are a dream to others, but a nightmare to yourself. As my pen hits the paper, my soul relaxes. My thoughts become positive and my heart flies. I mentally visit every inch of this Earth, as my pen continues to write. I don’t want to stop, I can’t stop. But I must face reality sometime. I become stronger every time my pen hits the paper, and one day I will shine.